Chapter Forty-Three:
"Window of the Soul"

It took me a minute to get my bearings straight. These strange warp zones were doing a number on my sense of direction. I wandered around a bit, hoping to spot something familiar. I did eventually, by finding the demolished remains of the Manager's office. I was on the first floor, which was where I was going, but the destruction, oh man…

The fire that murdered the Lakeview Hotel did a very thorough job, but even as bad as the east wing looked upstairs, it was nothing compared to the devastation I found here. That was a good word for it, devastation. Up there, things were burned, and burned badly. Down here, I was treated to a scene of utter annihilation, but it seemed to be of a completely different kind. I would have thought with certainty that the fire started down here, but it didn't seem that way. Something else happened down here, something that wrecked doors, destroyed windows, gouged the walls, tore apart the ceiling, and generally caused a massive amount of physical mayhem. Several doors were missing, revealing rooms in only slightly varying states of destruction. Yellow caution tape had been laced across each of them. One of the rooms had a collapsed ceiling, but all of them were certain to hide potentially fatal hazards such as exposed electrical wire or further structural damage. Very few doors remained intact, and each one I tried refused to open.

I continued down the halls, marveling at the damage as I looked for a way to get away from it. The ceiling above me was in no better shape than anything else, and after my close call upstairs with the weakened floor, I wasn't inclined towards pushing my luck here. This area was cordoned off with good reason. The whole place was a shambles, and it had the silent look of a bomb's aftermath. Such a thing would explain the extensive fire damage upstairs, but…

That was it. That's what seemed so wrong here. There was no fire damage down here. This area of the hotel certainly seemed to catch the brunt of whatever catastrophe took place, but the fire did not seem to actually reach this far. Perhaps something triggered the gas lines. Perhaps not. I don't know enough to even guess.

The damage was even worse at the far end of the staff section. One room in particular was almost totally blown out. I had no idea what the room was, but it was absolutely gutted. Massive chunks were missing from the walls, as if something large and angry exploded from within. The rest of the wall was a crumbling mess, and the smell was fantastically awful. The door to the Security Office was directly across from one of the gouges, and it was nearly folded double by some tremendous impact. If so, the debris that caused it was removed, but to think of the force required to cause that kind of damage, it had to be large and heavy and very, very deadly. Near the demolished door was a shattered black lump of plastic, but not so ruined that I couldn't tell what it originally was. It was an EXIT sign. I shivered, and I wanted out of here even more.

The EXIT sign once hung over this last door, made of green steel and labeled "Garden/Equipment Shed/Topiary". It might be possible to go out and around, and enter the lobby from the front of the building. I was quite curious as to what the outside would look like now. It seemed like I was in that Abyss again, where spatial relationships were decidedly screwy, where I took five right turns and never saw an intersection. I bet the outside world was a decidedly more interesting place these days, but that hardly meant I had any real desire to experience it. But, if this was the way it had to be, then c'est la vie. I opened the door.

I expected strange and I expected unlikely and that was exactly what I was given. The door that should have led to a small outside access area instead led into another hallway, one that looked completely out of place in a hotel, which I guess was appropriate in a sick sort of way, because it was out of place.

My new surroundings were very stark. The walls and ceiling were completely naked, devoid of any decoration or device, nothing but cold gray concrete. Only under my feet did I see something different, and if the fact that I should be outdoors wasn't enough to tip me off that something was amiss, this certainly was, because there was no floor. The concrete walls continued down past my feet into a black, empty hole, and it spanned the entire length of the corridor, as far as I could tell. A thin layer of mesh, like chain-link fencing, was all that stood between me and oblivion. I took a tentative step on the mesh, and I was satisfied that it held my weight, but I was still very careful as I took my first few paces. Walking on unstable footing is never fun, and having a vast, bottomless pit below me didn't help matters. It made no difference that I had willingly jumped down several such HOLEs recently, because it's not something a person can ever really get used to. And besides, I had the distinct notion that whatever was below me wasn't like my HOLEs, and that only made it more worthy of my fear.

I had a bigger problem, though. For the first time since leaving Room 312, I found myself really missing my flashlight. A mostly laughable amount of light came in through the door behind me, but once I was ten feet in, there was nothing. No light at all. It all added up to nothing short of a recipe for disaster, and my resolve to find the source of that last radio transmission was again quickly cloaked by an equally-black layer of creeping terror, which grew thicker with each uncertain step.

Twenty paces. Thirty. Each one slow and each one careful. I had only my hands to guide me, and each time my foot came down, it had to make sure there was something to come down upon. It was something of a help that the corridor was narrow, and I was able to use both hands to keep balance, but it was small comfort, very small. I was vulnerable. I was more vulnerable now than perhaps ever before in my life.

Fifty paces.

It was a bit of a surprise to suddenly find that the wall disappeared to my left, until I realized that another had appeared in front of me. The floor continued in that direction, and so did I. I tried my best to figure out where I would be, in relation to anyplace I could think of, but I couldn't. I had too much to concern myself with in the here and now, and I couldn't spare enough cognitive thinking to make a mental map of my progress. Just a step at a time. I would eventually find the end of the hallway. The possibility that it might lead to somewhere just as dark and even more dangerous went unmentioned. I'd deal with that if it came to be. Right now, I had enough of my plate. It was just a blessing that I had passed unmolested for so long, because if

cha-chunk

cha-chunk

cha-chunk

I turned to ice when I heard the sounds. I wasn't alone here.

cha-chunk

cha-chunk

cha-chunk

Oh no, for the love of God, not now…

Something was coming, and whatever it was, it was on the move. Its footsteps sent the dull clatter bouncing off of the close quarters, and each one brought it a few feet closer to my position. I threw myself against the wall, and now I was in a quite literal blind panic. I couldn't see what it was. It was directly in front of me, so if I shot at it, even blindly, I would probably score a hit or two, but firing blind meant that I might empty a whole clip and not damage it in any meaningful way. But, if I didn't shoot, it would be on me in seconds. It was moving a hell of a lot faster than I had been, which meant that it might likely not be as blind as I was. If that was true, then to turn tail and run would likely result in me losing my footing, and making for an easy kill.

cha-chunk

cha-chunk

cha-chunk

My mind raced, but there didn't seem to be any solution. I was at a complete disadvantage. It was only a few feet away from me now.

It won't be now.

It wasn't bravado that made me do what I did, even though I wouldn't mind believing so. I wasn't brave. Had I stopped to think about what I did, I almost certainly wouldn't have done it. But I did. I ran.

Forward.

I did have the presence of mind to lower my shoulder. I didn't know how big my adversary was, but if I could knock it aside and keep going without pausing, I might have a chance. A slight one, to be sure, but right now I wasn't about to be picky. It was all I could hope for.

So, I lowered and I dashed, just as I heard it fall upon me. Suffice it to say, it was a bit of a surprise to rush right through it without even the slightest physical contact, and for a moment, I was sure that was exactly what I did, that I somehow phased through the monster and went through it. I overbalanced, expecting the impact to (hopefully) counter, and it was more luck than anything that had me catch the wall before I fell over. I heard the monster keep right on walking for a moment, and then pause.

And that's when I figured it out. I had been in this position once before, only then I had the flashlight to see what was going on. It was the floor that gave it away.

It was one of those damn hanging things, the ones that I encountered in the tunnel after escaping the hospital. That's why I passed through it, because it wasn't here to begin with. It was underneath me. And that was no relief at all, because I remembered quite well that being under the floor did nothing to make them less of a danger. The image of that long, black spike coming up through the floor, inches away from my foot, was still very much in attendance, and it was what flashed across my mind's eye as I heard this underhanger reverse course.

Now I did run.

I used one hand to ride the wall and kept the other in front of me to avoid colliding with a wall, and under less strenuous circumstances it might not have been so hard, but…

cha-chunk

cha-chunk

cha-chunk

It was gaining. Now I threw caution to the wind and sprinted. Terror drove me, but preservation instincts kept me aware enough to stay steady. I hit one wall, but softly enough to stay upright. I guessed that the hall turned left, and it was a lucky one. I was doing well, but the underhanger was determined, and was keeping pace. Whether by sight or by hearing, it was unconcerned with bashing into walls. It knew where it was going. I did not, and the necessary hesitation in each step allowed it to cover the distance quickly. It was only a few feet behind and gaining fast. It might have to stop to try and impale me. It might not. It might not matter either way because it could just overtake me and get me as I come past. I had to run faster, but to run faster was to fall, and to fall was to die, and if I died here, so close to where I needed to be, I would never be able to forgive myself. I wasn't so sure I would be able to regardless, but I

…suddenly ran right into the wall, and fell…

This is it. It was all for nothing. I'm going to die right before the finish line

…right onto solid concrete.

I immediately scrambled back to my feet, not quite understanding, but it came quickly. I heard the underhanger pacing a few feet away, unable to get any closer. I wanted to laugh, but I had no laughs in me. I had only a very strong desire to get out of this hallway before it found a way to emerge from underneath. It couldn't quite get me from down there, but could it come up? I remember wondering that the first time, and I remember not wanting to find out. That same urge was just as strong now as it was then.

I felt along the wall until I reached the end, and now I did laugh. Under my touch was something just as hard and just as cold as the rest of the concrete, but decidedly different in texture. It was made of steel, not concrete, and a little more groping was rewarded with the cool, round touch of a doorknob. I yanked it open and rushed through, pushing the door closed behind me. Then, I threw the deadbolt. I didn't know if the monster had a way of defeating it, but I sure as hell felt better for it being there.

I was now in a small room, blessedly empty and blessedly lit, though there was little else inviting about it. The walls were still concrete, as was the floor beneath me, but it wasn't as constricting as the hallway. My attention was immediately taken by the source of the light.

On the wall opposite me was a strange display made of nine perfect squares, three rows of three. They glowed bright red, bathing the entire room in a blood-colored hue. I approached them slowly, and I don't know if it was my imagination or not, but the glow seemed to grow stronger as I did, yet it did not seem any brighter. The middle square was at my eye level, and when I got close enough, I saw that the squares were actually mirrors, or at least made of a material that gave the effect. As dirty as the walls were, the red mirrors were perfectly clean, free of so much as a speck of dirt. Looking into them, I could see my face quite clearly, and I did not like what I saw. My face was dirty. My hair looked matted and clumped, as it often did when I woke up in the morning. Dark, ugly circles ringed my eyes. My clothing was absolutely hideous. I looked like I'd been in a war zone, an assessment that was more literal than I cared to think. All in all, my appearance was quite faithful to how I felt.

I stood there for a long time, seeing myself as if for the first time, and perhaps that was true in a sense. The masks were off this time, and even though it had only been a couple of days since I had put them on, it felt like it had been three years. Maybe it really had been that long. Yes, I made up everything about Mary being dead for three years, but that didn't mean I pulled the number out of thin air. Even the worst lies are usually born from a truth. It really had been three years since Mary and I last stayed here. After that last visit, things went sharply downhill, and she was never again well enough to travel. Instead of hotel suites, she was doomed to spend most of her days in and out of dingy hospital rooms at St. Jerome's. Instead of seeing fantastic sunsets over the shimmering western banks of Lake Toluca, she watched her suns set behind a row of office buildings on 18th Street in downtown Ashfield. She hated it there. Who could possibly blame her? St. Jerome's was hardly a place of luxury, but even the fanciest hospital room would doubtlessly seem like a prison when one is trapped in one so long and so often. Three years. It wasn't completely a lie after all. It was when

"Mary's going to die? What the hell are you talking about? You must be joking! How in the world can…"

Doctor Winfield held his hand up to quiet me, and I complied. He wasn't joking. I could see it in his eyes. Before me stood a man more than twice my age, a man who had been doing his job since I was in training pants. The lines in his eyes told me that he had pronounced many such death sentences in his days, and that the last one was as difficult as the first. There was far too much sincerity and professionalism in this man to even think of pulling my leg in such a brutal fashion. Knowing this made it no easier to accept, though. At that moment, it didn't help keep me from feeling angry, and yes, even hatred, towards this man, this doctor who just delivered some of the worst news I would ever hear in my entire life.

"I'm very sorry, Mr. Sunderland. Believe me, I am. I know how extraordinarily difficult this is for you."

"The hell you do!" I yelled. The nurse nearby shot me a dirty look. I couldn't care less. "You're a doctor, goddammit! How can you stand there and tell me that you're giving up? How can you tell me that you're just going to let her die?" That, of course, wasn't even close to fair, but again, I couldn't care less.

Dr. Winfield had read many such death sentences in his career, and certainly, he had seen reactions like mine. He remained impassive, and for some reason, that only irritated me even more. "Mr. Sunderland, please, be calm. Mary's still my patient, and I want you to know that I'll do everything I can possibly do for her, exhaust every source. But, I also want you to know that this disease of hers is quite severe, and so far, we've run up against a brick wall each time. There doesn't appear to be an effective treatment for her condition."

"So you're giving up, then. You'll make sure she…"

"Not at all. I intend to attack this until the last possible moment. But, it is most prudent to expect the worst. No man works miracles, except by accident, and barring a miracle, I'm afraid that Mary's condition will prove terminal."

"How long, then? How long does she have?"

"It's difficult to say, considering. It could be as little as six months. If she's particularly strong, she may hold out as long as three years. I can't be any more exact than that, I'm sorry to say. In the end, it comes down to Mary. She's a strong woman, Mr. Sunderland."

"Yes, she is. Stronger than she looks." I said.

"All I can tell you is to take whatever is left and make the best of it. I wish I could do more."

Yes, that was why. Mary was strong. She fought and lasted those three years, and even a little more. Who knows how long she would have lasted, if not for me?

That was the most numbing part of it all. My memories were coming back to me still, and I did remember actually doing what I did, but there was still a fog over much of that part. She was alive for those three years, but there was still something in the way, still something that kept me from seeing the entire picture. There was still more to remember. I didn't know what it was, obviously, but I could sense its importance. I just knew that the final piece was close, and that there was something I still had to do before I would be allowed to remember everything.

The lobby.

I hadn't noticed the doors before, as the glowing red squares had me enthralled. They were large, steel behemoths standing almost twice my height. They were as red as everything else, but at least some of that was natural, for the doors were very old and covered in rust. They would belong perfectly within the dungeon of a castle somewhere. I grabbed the handle and pulled. They opened more smoothly than their appearance suggested, but they were still very heavy, and it took no small effort just to get them open enough to slip through.

I found myself in an enormous room, definitely the largest I had seen yet. It was similar in appearance to the room I just left, save for there being a carpet under my feet. It was dingy and wet, and I could see spots of mildew and mold scattered about its surface. I also saw something else, an enormous symbol of some kind. It was very vague and difficult to see. It looked like a pair of co-centric circles facing one another, making a figure 8. There was something in the center of both, triangles pointing towards each other, decorated with meaningless squiggles in the center. I had no idea what they were, if they were anything, though they certainly did look

"JAMES!"

I looked up, and what I saw made me immediately forget about the strange designs.

How in the hell…

It was Maria. She was hanging upside-down, suspended from the ceiling on an upper level. She thrashed about, and she was swinging on a rope of some kind, tied around her ankles, and she was encased in a sort of wire-frame box. She screamed my name again and again as she fought against her bonds.

And, she wasn't alone. She was attended to by a pair of figures, and once I saw them, and what they were, it was all I could do to avoid flying into a panic myself.

There are two of them.

Pyramid Head. Or should I say, Pyramid Heads, because there were indeed a pair of them now, one on each side. One was never bad enough, no sir. It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fucking fair.

They looked at one another, and then the one on the right turned and lifted up some object in his right hand. It was long and dark, but even in the poor light, I could see what it was, and

Oh no…

It was a spear.

She saw it too, and now she howled, terror completely taking hold of her, and boy oh boy, I was right on her heels. I was terrified, just as I was every other time I had the misfortune of encountering these pointy-headed hellspawn. This time, though, there was something else, another feeling to temper the fear.

It was anger.

"Leave her alone!" I cried. "Leave us both the fuck alone!"

The Pyramid Head took no notice of me or my words. He merely moved into position behind Maria and raised his weapon. Maria couldn't see what he was doing, but I could, and she could read it on my face. Her cries grew even shriller, a sound of fear and agony to match my own. There was no way I could stop it. There was no way I could save her. My handgun wouldn't even make him blink, and there was no way I could get the rifle out and aim it in time. I was helpless. I was as helpless as she was.

It was just as it was the first time. Her screams intensified even more for a split second as Pyramid Head threw his arm forward and his instrument of death plunged into her body. Her last cry was choked as she looked up and saw the head of the spear exit the front of her chest, having destroyed everything in its path. Then, her strength and her life suddenly evaporated, and her head fell, hanging as limp as the rest of her body.

It was the last thing I saw as I fell to my knees, for it seemed like the murder I just witnessed sapped my energy just as it did hers. I sat propped on my hands, staring down at the carpet but not in any way looking at it. Grief washed over me as I came to realize that I had failed once again, that I had to watch her die yet another…

Wait a minute.

Why was she here at all? She was already dead. She had already died twice! How in God's name was this possible? I cried for her on the elevator, when her blood was on my hands. I cried for her as she lie in a bed, literally in the middle of nowhere, with the side of her face completely smashed in. Why again? Why was I crying for her again?

Because she was a part of it.

Of course. It made perfect sense, as much as anything could here. She was as much a part of it as they were. There was no other explanation. There was no other way she could come die and come back to life, over and over again, unless she was a part of it. She was. Her and Pyramid Head both. He was always around when she died, always nearby. I knew that for certain the first time, obviously, but I knew it the second time, too. I felt him, his presence, right before I found her. This was a demonstration of some kind. It happened over and over for a reason. It was just like it was with Eddie. He had so many grudges, and the town gave him a means by which to extract his vengeance. This town, this bloody damn town, it was just like that note said. I was in a place of my own mind. I didn't know how it worked, but now I was pretty sure that I at least realized that it did.

I stood, and now I knew.

"I was weak" I said, speaking to no one in particular, but to everyone. To everything. "That's what it's all about. I was weak." And that was the truth of it. It was the guilt I had, the guilt over what I had done. That's what this was all about. I had this sin on my heart, and even though I didn't consciously realize it, the truth was buried in my mind the whole time. That's what this was all about. My sins. I was here to make myself remember my sins, remember what I did. That's what I just saw, and what I saw twice before. I wasn't seeing Pyramid Head kill a lookalike of my wife.

I was watching myself kill her.

But I knew the truth now. There was no need for this charade any longer. I looked up, and she was gone. Maria was gone. Maybe she was never there to begin with.

The Pyramid Heads were still here, though. I felt them. They were behind me, flanking me. I took a couple of steps forward and turned to face them. They stood there, at each other's sides, each with a spear in their hand. For the first time, I felt as though the tables were turned. Now, I felt confident, and they seemed uncertain. I unstrapped the rifle and flicked the safety. Confident.

Then, they both took a step towards me.